Four Years
by CoffeeKat
Summary: -HYxRP- Heero returns after a four year disappearance, only to find that everything has shifted. Dangerously close to losing everything, it's time for Heero to make his choice.


Disclaimer:  Okay, nothing belongs to me.  I am broke.  Suing me would result in ownership of (drumroll)…ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!!!!  NADA! ZILCH! ZERO!  And, I am not making any money off of this either, so there would be double nothing to take.  So, in conclusion- don't own GW, don't own Lewis Thomas, and don't own his book…actually I do OWN his book, but it's COPYRIGHTED to him. 

Enjoy! ^_^

Four Years 

"Left to ourselves, mechanistic and autonomic, we hanker for friends."

-Lewis Thomas

"The Tucson Zoo"_, The Medusa and the Snail_

                He holds the newspaper in one hand, staring at the headline.  Oblivious to the rain as it falls, dripping down the back of his coat, smearing the ink, running down his face.  People hurry by under umbrellas and in raincoats, ignoring the man standing on the sidewalk, flowing around him like a river round a rock.  

                Four years and millions of miles.  The reality hasn't quite hit him yet, hasn't forced its way through the subconscious, through each of the carefully constructed barriers in his mind.  He is here again, back at the beginning.  Shakes his head, trying to clear the fuzziness surrounding the elusive thought.  He is here now.  He knows that.  He was here four years ago.  He knows that too.  There is a connection.  He does not know that.  Does not want to know that.  Will not acknowledge that.

                Four years and millions of miles.  Travel over earth and space has shown him everything.  He has seen forests and deserts, oceans and mountains, civilization and wastelands.  He has walked through crowded cities, observing the living, dying, pulsing, crying ebb and flow of life.  He has walked the beautiful, inhospitable, alien surfaces of the moon, seeing the impersonal darkness of space.

                Four years and millions of miles.  Slow progress, breaking down and rebuilding with every step he took.  Brick by brick removing the soldier he had been, struggling deeper to find the person he once was, so long ago.  Systematically breaking down a structure without deficiencies was difficult.  One tiny flaw had been found, exploited.  One tiny gap in the wall, allowing him to begin destruction.  Ruins left behind now, the remains of an abhorrent perfection, strewn about, but real healing was hard to find.

                Demolition was complete, but there was little growth towards a new creation.  Rebuilding is the hardest part.  Four years and he only had the smallest beginning, the skeleton of who he once was, dying to be fleshed out, completed.  Now he was back, back to square one, four years later.  And he was, unbelievable to him even now, looking for help.

                Lightning crashed in the sky above.  Passersby scurried for cover, small children put up mournful wails as the thunder rolled over.  He jerked his head up, startled, then dropped the paper on the ground and took off down the street.

                A strong wind fluttered the pages, grabbing the paper and sending it dancing over the sidewalk into a puddle, displaying the front page.  

Final Day of Peace Summit; Vice Foreign Minister to Speak at Closing 

********

                The room was warm, well lighted and cozy against the storm that raged outside.  Below came the soft susurration of the assembled delegates.  He stood in the balcony again, hidden behind the pillar and curtain.  The irony of his position did not escape him.  As the cynical smile broke on his face, he was surprised and a little cautious.  It was such a new action, such a reversal of what was familiar, that he wasn't quite sure how to control it.  Lack of control over anything, especially this smiling, scared him.  Not that he would ever admit to it.

                Whispering ceased abruptly as she entered, walking briskly to the podium, preparing herself calmly without paper rustling, or nervous gestures.  The sight floored him.  Drove the breath from his lungs.  Shocked him even.  Feeling the emotion slide across his face he instinctively fell on it, pushing it away from view.  A slight rush of anger came from relapsing into bad habits, and he refused to let his conditioning hide it.

                Chancing another glance at her, waves of emotion hammered him, momentarily causing panic and havoc in his mechanical mind.  Eyes closed, head back, breathing deeply, he slowly, painstakingly trampled the fear and hysteria that was rising with the new emotions.  When safety returned he opened his eyes and was shocked to see another figure leaning over him with a monstrous grin and eyes glinting with mischievous humor.

                "Duo," he managed, somewhere between a growl and a gasp, surprise tingeing his voice.  The other boy smiled wider, if possible, and leaned back, hands on hips.  

                "Hey buddy, long time no see.  How are you doing?" Duo asked.

                He struggled for a second, trying very hard to reject the impulse to send a Death Glare Duo's way.  Finally he settled on an answer, thinking very carefully about replies, and how to phrase it.  Now selecting which emotion he wanted to back it with, which inflections he should use so it wouldn't be misinterpreted.  One simple reply was giving him a headache.  How did people manage to speak so quickly, and make others perceive their intention at the same time?

                "I'm good.  I'm…relieved?…no, glad…to be back," he replied, slightly confused, brows knitting in concentration, the barest warmth audible in his words.  

                "Oh?  Did you miss me that much?  I know it must be _hard to survive without my wonderful self around," Duo responded, leaning nonchalantly against the railing, still grinning.  Heero groaned, rolling his eyes._

                "Four years away has changed you, eh?  Much an improvement, but not as much fun to bother.  Perhaps I should track down Wufei…" he muttered.  

                "How is everyone?"  Heero asked, slowly with less stumbling.

                "You care to know?  You inquire after others?  Things really have changed," he said, emitting a low whistle.  Heero didn't respond, was uncertain of how to reply.  

                "Four years away, to heal yourself?  Separating the Perfect Soldier from the Person?  Success, I see, but I'm guessing you're not all done yet, buddy," he said quietly.

                "No."

                "It must be just killing you to have to do this," Duo said with a smile.

                "Not as much as before.  It's still hard, but…things are…improving?…yes, improving,"  Heero responded, feeling panic well up at the shy smile that was forming.  Inside, the soldier rebelled against his words, against the destruction that he deemed to be improvement.  But now, stronger and self-assured after four years of development, he quashed the complaints and was…smiling. 

                "A smile!  Ye Gods, it's a miracle!  I think I'm going to die of shock.  And wait," he exclaimed, peering at Heero, "it's not malicious, or evil…It's a real, honest to goodness, genuine happy smile!  You're not suicidal now are you?  Cause if you're planning on self-detonating, wait till I'm out of the building."

                "Duo," he sighed with exasperation.  A thought entered his mind and he changed tack quickly.  "How did you know I was going to be here?"

                "Using my crystal ball and mystical psychic powers.  No really, I figured you would watch the news, and see about the summit.  And because even if you don't know it, you have a sense of drama and timing that rivals my own, though I hate to admit it.  Of course you would be here, were you left from almost four years ago to the day, to see her and hope she sees you," Duo explained.  Heero gazed at him, surprise and admiration evident in his face.

                "Oh yeah!  Score one for the mystical powers!" Duo exclaimed.  "I also predict that after you see her, you'll be taking me out to lunch," he hazarded.

                "Better check again, cause I think your crystal ball is on the blink," Heero replied.  

                "Ah! Was that an attempt at humor?  You're killing me!  But seriously man, come over later," Duo said.

"I will.  I need…help…I mean, I'm not quite…whole?…um…healed? yet.  There's still work to be done.  I need to find…friends," Heero mumbled uncertainly.  

  "You've always had one here," Duo replied softly.  He smiled sweetly now, a little sadness creeping in, then turned and walked away.

********

                Heero watched his receding back, feeling a form of happiness and relief well up.  Quickly he stepped on the effort to drown the emotions, letting them run their course.  A quick glance below assured him that she was just finishing her speech.

                With a final smile, she accepted the applause that was rippling through the crowd.  She smiled again, at the crowd, eyes involuntarily darting to the balcony, as they did every time she finished a speech.  What she saw almost overwhelmed her.  Eyes went wide and she let out a tiny gasp, fighting for breath before she remembered where she was and who were watching her.  Slowly, with as much of her scattered dignity as she could muster, she stepped down from the podium and exited the room.

                She saw him.  He knew it.  Quickly, turned and sprinted away, hoping to catch her before she escaped.  He was positive he could make it to the parking lot faster than her.

                As soon as she was through the door, Relena took off towards her car.  People waved and made noises of dismay as she flew by, but she didn't stop.  She had to beat him there; she had to get away.  It was the most important priority right now.

                "Damn," he hissed, noting the copious amounts of cars in the lot.  Obviously she'd given up the pink limousine.  A wise decision, he thought objectively.  It did make it harder to pick her out though.  Then from another door came a blur of motion.  Someone was running flat out across the lot.

                "Aha! Gotcha!" he whispered.  He took off on line to intercept the speeding person.  

                She dug inside her coat pocket, fumbling for the keys and the remote.  Finally grabbing it she pressed the button, joyfully noting the comforting beep emitted by the car.  Then out of the corner of her eye she saw him.  He was sprinting towards her, gaining with every step.  

                "Damn it! Of course.  He's finally started chasing me and I just want to get away.  I think I know how he must have felt," she mumbled to herself.  Attention distracted, she didn't behold the slightly raised piece of pavement.  The toe of her stiletto caught it, and she fell spectacularly, sliding to a halt several feet away.  

                 Panic overwhelmed her, adrenaline coursing through her veins.  Fight or flight, she thought to herself.  She compelled herself to get up, clutching at her ripped skirt and bloodied thigh.  He had stopped momentarily when she fell, but was coming on now with redoubled speed.  She began to flee; realizing her briefcase had flown twenty feet away.  

                "Damn!  No time for that now.  He's gonna catch me!"  She took off for the car, leaving the briefcase behind.  Upon reaching the little black convertible she threw open the door and collapsed into the driver's seat, ramming the key into the ignition.

                She peeled away just as he reached the space.  He cursed fluently for ten minutes, staring after the retreating car.  Then, dispiritedly, he noticed the briefcase.  Picking it up, he headed off towards his own vehicle.

********

                She slammed the door to her room behind her, leaning against it to catch her breath.  Moments earlier she had flown through the house, startling her brother and his wife.  Now she slumped to the floor, breath shaky, tears threatening to spill over.

                Only know did she recognize the stinging, burning ache in her left thigh.  Leg screaming in protest she hobbled to the bathroom and ran some warm water, bathing the scrape gently with soap.  It was six inches long and would make a hell of a scab.  Once clean she wrapped a bandage around it, padded with a towel.  

                Lights were off, but the room was not dark.  Rather it was suffused with the grayish blue light of night.  Noise was hushed instinctively in surroundings like these.  She shut off the bathroom light and went to sit on the floor, knees hugged close to her chest.  Time to think now, before he arrived.

                She knew he would come.  There was no stopping him.  Guards, alarms, locks…none of it mattered.  He always found a way in.  Better to prepare for the inevitable, gather her thoughts and her dignity.  Better to prepare than to spend time wishing he wouldn't appear.

                He would appear and it would start all over again.  Four years and millions of tears had almost convinced her that she didn't need him anymore.  She had almost convinced herself that it was just a childish infatuation.  Just a way to escape a life that had become to boring and too confusing.  Almost convinced herself that it wasn't the person she chased, but what he represented.  He was an amalgam of all the things she wanted then: change, strength, courage, action, excitement, danger.   Almost convinced that the chase was simply an excuse to run from the uncertainties of her life, the doldrums of her life.  She was trying to escape her nebulous feelings over her new status, the mundane work and school life she lived.  She wanted excitement, so she convinced herself that there was a connection between them, between herself and Heero.

                Now he had come back, and all excuses, all the arguments were swept from her mind with a single glance.  On the surface she believed her pretexts, but down deep inside she knew they were linked.  Despite all the anger that had built up over four years, all the pain she had internalized, she still wished for him.  Icy, knifelike pain had receded after the first couple of months, leaving behind a dull throbbing ache that pulled at her every waking hour.  Bitterness and hatred had become grief.  And now he was back, throwing her into a storm of controversy, contradicting everything she tried to tell herself.  

                _He came looking for you.  He was chasing after you._

_                The thought hit her hard, sending her reeling emotionally.  It was too unexpected, too fast, too overwhelming for her to manage._

                He stood beneath her balcony, debating what to do.  The room was dark and silent, but he knew she was in there.  Felt it.  Sensed it.  Slowly he climbed up, gathering his thoughts.  When he thought he had it together a new idea would come and send the collected emotions and notions skittering off wildly into the corners of his mind.  A deep breath, then another.  Finally he had it together, knowing full well that if he weren't careful the remains of the Perfect Soldier would destroy the delicate situation.

                She saw the shadow fall in the light that came from the balcony, heard the door open on its hinges.  Knees still tight to her chest, she remained on the floor, not bothering to stand and face him.

                Pain rose in him, followed by shame, and anger at what he had done to her.  Hatred for himself and the anguish his cold, unthinking self caused her.  Something was fighting to display itself, fighting through years and years of conditioning in response to his despair.  It fell away again, lurking somewhere under the surface, waiting for a chance to express itself.

                "Relena."

                She snapped her head around in wonderment at the voice.  No longer deadpan, but hoarse and choked filled with undertones of sorrow, anger, and apology.  It wasn't what she had expected, but then again, everything was turning out to be a surprise today.

                "Heero."

                Whispered with such agony and reproach.  He winced slightly, a small gesture, but she saw it, even in the darkened room.  Standing, she looked him up and down, observing.  Change had occurred, altering his body language, his expressions, showing her all too clearly the breakdown of the cold, mechanical boy she had known.  

                Standing he could observe the way four years had matured her.  She looked older, suited to the profession she had chosen.  Competence was obvious, though she appeared quite young.  Responsibility had strengthened her.  Experience had jaded her.  Stubborn and smart still, but possessing qualities of compromise and sagacity.  This was a woman who politicians would trust, would believe, and would respect.

                "Why?" she asked softly.  Inside she steeled herself against him and her emotions for him.  She was prepared to listen, but not to be nice.  He didn't deserve her kindness, but he deserved a chance to explain himself before she pushed him away.  She was angry with him for his thoughtlessness.  However a traitorous part of her was glad to see him again, to have him be so close again.

                "Why?" she demanded again when he didn't answer, shoving the treacherous thoughts away.

                "It was…safer?…no, it was _best with no good-byes," he said softly._

                "How is that best?  No warning, no signs, just gone," she hissed.  Her eyes were angry; looking at him with barely concealed venom.  Inside he could feel the ruins of the Perfect Soldier, pushing themselves into control, trying to let habit take over.  If he retreated into himself now it would snap the tenuous strand holding Relena and him together.

                "Who I was then," he said, stressing the was, mentally forcing the habits away, forcing himself to accept the emotions, "who I was then could not live with the world that had been created.  I was a Perfect Soldier, as they say.  I was designed to be a weapon, and weapons are…useless in times of peace," he said, looking at her and pleading for her to understand.  She had to understand, understand the effort it took to say the words, to accept what he was feeling instead of shoving it back inside.

                "You weren't useless," she whispered.

                "Yes, I…I couldn't live in this world the way I was.  I…I…my options…"he stumbled, casting his eyes downward.  He was losing.  Old habits die hard, and damned if his would go down without a fight.

                "Options?  You didn't have to leave?  There were other choices?" she queried, pain and betrayal creeping into her voice.

                "Only one.  At least this way, I could come back…even if it took a while…"he said, trailing off, still gazing at the carpet.  He didn't want to dredge up memories of that time.  Didn't want to think about the way he'd held the knives, or fingered the triggers on guns, or poured the pills into his hands.  

                "Oh no…no…don't tell me this!" she shrieked, turning away, hands over her ears.

                "Not now, not now!" he exclaimed desperately.  "I left instead, and I didn't…say goodbye…just in case…" he mumbled.  She looked at him tearfully, begging him to be truthful with her.

                "Leaving…was good for me…it let me…heal?…no, it let me change.  I found who…who I was…before," he said softly, looking her in the eye.

                "Before?" she murmured.  

                "Before the conditioning…before the doctors…before the girl and her dog…" he whispered, feeling the tears come to his eyes.  Panic rose at the sensation, internal alarms blaring over the show of emotion.  One look confirmed what he knew.  She saw them there, waiting to spill over the edge, down his cheeks.  Carefully, cautiously she raised one hand.  Slowly she wiped away tears at the corner of one eye, and then the other.

                "You've only just begun.  There's just so much to lay to rest.  And, I know it seems hateful, but I, well, you caused so much pain leaving like that…I just can't forget it as soon as you come back, like it never happened," she whispered, tears falling freely now.  Quickly she turned away from him, covering her face with her hands. 

                "I don't deserve your forgiveness."    

"Why come back here?" she asked, turning slightly to see his face.

                "I've been all over, but this is the only place the feels…like a home…" he said, feeling another small smile cross his face.  She smiled when she saw that.  

                "Much improved, but it's a long way to go alone."

                "I'm here.  I came because…now…I…" He faltered, chancing a look into her eyes, seeing the encouragement there.

                "I can see….that leaving hurt you…badly.  I'm sorry for it," he apologized.

                "I'm the stronger person for it," she said.

"I came back because I need help," he said hurriedly, looking at his feet.  She put a hand on his shoulder.  She couldn't forget yet, the pain was still with her.  But she was better for it.  Now he was back again, changed, still changing, and offering in his way to mend the damage he'd done.  Time for her to begin moving on.  Besides, she thought, I'll be damned if I leave it all to Duo.  Lord knows how he'd turn out.

"Relena."  She shook her head, abandoning her reverie.

"I came because I want friends."

                __


End file.
